Date: Thu, 18 Apr 2013 12:35:18 -0700
From: Rio Mack
Subject: Sports at St. Sebastian's Academy (gay/high school)
Sports at St. Sebastian's Academy
By Rio Mack
DISCLAIMER: Contains depictions of gay sex.
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It was the morning of the all-day carwash to benefit the St. Sebastian's
Academy Athletic Program, one of the school's most anticipated traditions
-- not only by the coaches and students, but by the local community as
well.
'Jocks in Jocks' was the name they gave to the event, the name seen
everywhere, in large-point boldface, on the fliers plastered all over town,
featuring one of the most compellingly homoerotic photos imaginable,
showing several of the most gorgeous high school studs from various teams,
all hard-carved muscle, dotted here and there with a sexy coating of
soap-suds, all in the skimpiest of jocks, the stretched mesh pouches of
which did very little to obscure the sensuous outlines of their thick,
luscious young cocks. The coaches would laugh among themselves each year,
wondering why the town allowed such a frankly gay image to be displayed all
over, in the stores and restaurants and on the streets, for that month or
so before the benefit. But they knew, of course: it was an image that
resonated strong and deep in the town's collective libido.
And 'Jocks in Jocks' it actually was: in a corner of the mall's parking
lot, cordoned off for the afternoon, there were seven car-washing stations,
each manned by the coaching staff, plus a few select team members,
representing the school's various sports teams. Each stud there, athlete
and coach, wore nothing more than a jockstrap and flip-flops for the entire
day -- beautifully defined muscle getting more and more pumped throughout
the day, as they had what was basically an all-day workout washing and
scrubbing and drying car after car, jock pouches plumping almost
immediately, getting more and more deliciously revealing, as water and suds
and sun shrunk the mesh ever more tightly around fulsome young meat. These
jock teens were so gorgeous, so built, so virile, so obscenely sexy, and so
boyishly enthusiastic, that lines for the carwash stayed long all day.
Coaches and athletes from all of St. Sebastian's sports teams were there:
football, basketball, wrestling, soccer, fencing, track and field, and
baseball. Each team was represented by the head coach and his two
assistants, along with six student-athletes: comprising each of the six-boy
student crews were four of the best-looking studs on their respective
squads, young jocks who were also the most experienced, most enthused, and
most adept at boy-sex, as well as two gay virgins, hot-looking boys, new to
the varsity team that year, who gave off every vibe detectable that they
were ripe and randy for same-sex pleasure.
Gay desire was an important criterion by which to measure the boys, because
the St. Sebastian's sports program was, and had been for almost all its one
hundred and fifty year history, a secret bastion for gay lust. It started
with the coaches, who were almost always former student-athlete stars,
fresh out of college who became assistant coaches at their former high
school for a couple years, learning the ropes, with the expectation that
one of them at some point would replace the head coach, who, having built
up an impressive resume after being on the job for five or six years, was
ready to move on to college coaching. So the assistant coach would be
promoted, and a new assistant hired.
The coaching staff, then, was a kind of closed loop of randy boy-lovers who
promoted same-sex intimacy on their teams as much as they could: the locker
room, shower, gym and playing field all became one lush garden of ripe
athletic masculinity, a moist climate in which the boys' most primal,
natural desires could flourish. Shirts were never worn during indoor
practice, so the boys could dreamily gaze at as much skin as possible. And
in the weight room, the rule was 'jockstraps only' -- coaches wanted as
clear a view of muscle development as possible.
Then immediate nudity in the locker rooms. The coaches themselves set that
tone of nude, athletic perfection, flaunting their own beautifully worked
bodies and thick, impressive dicks as often as possible as they cruised the
lockers, ready to comment on team performance, give their athletes
pointers, or just slap an ass in warm encouragement. The coaching staff
would spend a long time in the shower with their athletes, soaping their
beautifully impressive bodies, especially their huge, thick man-cocks and
firm, sexy asses. The young athletes loved to ogle them, their stiff, hard
young pricks a sign of their desire. Every week or so the coaches would
shave each other, explaining how it set off muscle development in vivid
relief, encouraging the boys to do the same.
No actual passes were ever made, but all the cut muscle and hard cock made
it only a matter of time. It was always a beautiful rite of young
masculine passion to observe, rounding a corner and seeing two or three
boys going passionately at it, giving the boys a smile and a knowing wink
if they were observed. And then they knew which boys were ready for
further intimacy.
All the while, then, while the teams always remained highly competitive at
the state level in all their sports, this heady atmosphere of boy-lust was
cultivated, resulting in a kind of shadow-team: those select young athletes
who, cock-crazed by the boy-friendly environment the coaches encouraged,
started quietly fooling around with similarly eager gay-curious teammates.
As soon as the coaches were aware of boys who eagerly seized the
opportunity to fuck and suck each other, the coaches stepped in, inviting
them to one of the periodic initiation parties they threw, orgies really,
where boys learned the outrageously wonderful possibilities for same-sex
passion at their school. Once initiated, they became members of the
special Coaches' Team.
The 'Jocks in Jocks' carwash after-party (currently held at an estate in
the country owned by the football coach) was the hottest initiation party
of the year. All teams represented, a flood of hot male flesh; eager gay
bucks, excited virgins, and their randy coaches made for the headiest mix
imaginable. Once they arrived at the estate and stripped off their jocks,
it was gay teen lust all night long.
The boys at these initiation events were almost always the boys who were
most beautiful, most developed, most exuberant, and most athletically
gifted. It was rare to find one of the stars on the field who didn't also
turn in an impressive performance sexually. Once tutored in gay sex, these
young jocks proved fantastic lovers; full of the unbridled horniness of
youth, their appetites were insatiable, always ready to fuck or suck or
jack each other or any of the coaching staff.
There were, then, for the boys on Coaches' Team, depending on when they
started having sex with other boys, two or three years of the most exciting
gay sex possible, and an ongoing supply of muscular young Adonis's for the
coaches to frolic with. The tradition, all kept on the down low, proved
enormously satisfying for all involved. Class reunions, obviously, were
highly anticipated.
The carwash remained jam-packed with customers all day. There were always
a lot of girls (from area high schools and colleges), and maybe even more
boys (high school, college, and a little beyond; some obviously gay, giving
wolf whistles and winks, others just gazing in shy, achingly curious awe).
Always frequent, too, were older men, who stared at the boys with an almost
harsh, unabashed hunger. Once in a while, an older woman. The women and
gays had the same tipping style: bills in the pouches of those they found
hottest, copping as big a feel as their tip warranted. The older men and
the younger, closeted boys either didn't tip, if their shyness was that
paralyzing, or they meekly handed a bill to the coach or boy closest, their
minds an almost nauseous whirl of repressed desire after staring helplessly
at raw naked muscle for the length of their car's wash.
For the young athletes of St. Sebastian's, too, it was one long
dick-hardening thrill -- the sheer, mind-boggling awesomeness of being in
just a jock strap, all day, among twenty-seven other hot, young dudes --
built, buff, studs showing off hot naked ass and muscle, teen jock cocks
stuffed tight and bulging in a shrunk-wrap pouch -- all water and hose and
suds and hard-carved, gorgeously rippling flesh. Not to mention their hot
older coaches, also clad in only jock and muscle, and all with that light,
sexy stubble of shaved man-fur. All through the warm, late-summer
afternoon, hot sun and hose-spray gave a sexy sheen to all that jock beef.
It was an all-day sausage-fest: teen cocks started plumping almost
immediately -- especially the young, still-virgin first-timers there, new
to these boy-sexy varsity ways, who couldn't believe something as
outrageously hot as this could actually be happening.
The coaches were uncanny in their ability to identify new initiates each
year for their special team-within-the-teams, this very select intramural
squad. It only took them a few days with any boy new to the varsity squad:
noticing his look, his bearing, his stares, sometimes even just the way a
kid licked his lip, unconsciously, amid all the varsity beefcake. The
coaches knew all the tell-tale signs for spotting a boy whose most secret
passion, most thrilling fantasy, was exactly what they'd be doing both at
the carwash itself and the after-party later that night. So weeks in
advance, they'd put out the word among their Coaches' Team members, urging
the hottest, horniest boys to check out so-and-so, maybe maneuver things to
a one-on-one session in the sauna or shower, when the rest of the team was
gone, and see how things went. Or have the kid over to work on homework,
flirt a playful bit, try to read the signals, just as they would in a game.
Then, the week immediately prior to the annual carwash, the coaches would
have a skull session with the boys on their special squad, as to possible
new Coaches' Team members, giving their insights, and getting those of the
young players, then finally agreeing on the two most likely candidates to
invite to this year's event. Never were their hunches wrong; each virgin
at the after-party, once turned loose in the midst of a raging teen-muscle
orgy, proved only too eager to enjoy the sex he'd fantasized about for so
long.
One of the two virgins the basketball team's Coach Daniels brought this
year was a junior transfer sensation, a forward who'd joined the team last
fall and had had immediate impact; the best kind of impact: he was the key
to their winning the state title this past spring. His name was Blake
Berringer, and all season he unfailingly had double figures in one category
or another, usually double-doubles, occasionally a triple-double.
Plus, he was hot as fuck. The coach's boys on the team unanimously
recommended him as a new initiate; everyone got the vibe he was strongly
boy-curious. About six foot, gorgeous build; his slightly beefy lankiness
firm, deeply carved, and bulging; deliciously-cut eight-pack abs; dirty
blonde hair, which he kept jock-scruff short; a permanent blonde stubble on
his square, chiseled jaw; and emerald-green eyes that looked like there
were flames dancing in them. The cherry on the whole luscious sundae: he
had one of the longest, thickest, tastiest-looking cocks in the locker
room: uncut, a couple light veins running down its solid smooth heft, the
cockhead sexily sheathed by tasty-looking hood of foreskin that nippled
sexily a quarter-inch past his cock-tip; the whole gorgeous package
accented by a shaved-almost-smooth stubble of blonde pubes that matched his
face-stubble.
Matt Stand, the senior QB, who was participating in his third carwash,
became obsessed with that hot blonde stud the moment he saw him that
morning over at the basketball team's station. Hottest dude he'd ever
seen, hands down. Instant erection for Matt, his j/o fantasy made flesh.
So Matt kept sneaking looks all day at the jock-clad dream-stud. Blake
kept catching him staring, and both of them would crack up and get red
every time, mouthing 'fuck!' or 'damn!' But no matter how many times he
was caught, Matt couldn't stop looking at that boy across the lot.
Something about him -- fuck, everything about him -- made him totally
obsess.
When the carwash finally ended, all the boys and their coaches, still in
their jocks, boarded a charter bus, which drove them about thirty minutes
into the country, to the huge private estate that would serve as the
setting for their after-party.
The young athletes, pumped from a day of seriously lewd boy-watching,
boarded the bus with testosterone levels raging. Rowdy jock horseplay led
to flirty, playful touching and hair-mussing, then trying to strip off each
other's jocks (succeeding in every case, of course, as the experienced boys
especially couldn't wait to show off their thick lusty cocks), then muscle
worship, or lewd grabbing and groping. Soon various pockets of boys began
fondling and light kissing, then heavy stroking, then deep kissing and
jacking and sucking. By that time, any boy new to the varsity squad
realized, with an almost unbelieving delight, what sort of party was in
store that evening. As if to make things even clearer, in the back of the
bus, against the emergency door, the first of the fucking began Ð a
senior wrestler having his way with a junior defensive lineman who'd caught
his eye earlier in the day, a gorgeous, corn-fed hunk he'd begun hitting on
as they waited in line to board the bus, an eager young stud, awed by the
grappler's awesome body and rugged face and only too happy to be a gay
virgin no more.
As soon as the bus arrived, the boys eagerly rushed inside, anxious to
begin the fuck-fest. First, though, they listened as several of the
coaches explained the evening for those new to the varsity squad (and
hence, new to initiation parties). Those new members, as they heard about
the lay-out, quickly appreciated the gay-curious boy's paradise they were
now thrillingly a part of.
There were two of the hippest DJ's, who played at the hottest gay clubs
downtown -- one in the large, open entertainment room, one out by the pool.
There was a bag of bud and a few bongs on the kitchen table. Ice cold
beer, in kegs, bottles and cans, in tubs and coolers scattered throughout
the house and patio. Lube and rubbers also everywhere throughout the
house. Gay porn clips, featuring hung, muscular, college dudes sucking and
fucking, played non-stop on all the flat screens in the house. Also on the
walls, in almost every room, was homoerotic artwork: Dieux de Stade
posters, gay porn movie posters, or posters advertising gallery shows of
male erotica; also art prints, photos, paintings, and sculptures of nude,
muscular men. Maybe most sexily, at least one of which was hanging in
almost every room, were large, framed photographs of absolutely gorgeous
young male nudes, athletic boys posed in the most erotic of positions, some
solo, some couples, some featuring three or more naked boys.
The models in the latter photographs turned out to be former students of
St. Sebastian's, young athletes like the boys there tonight, who had
volunteered at some point during their years at the academy to pose nude
for the photography teacher, Mr. Forrest, who not only taught the subject
but was an established artist himself, one with a highly anticipated annual
show of his photographs of young male nudes. His work could be found in
many museums and private collections nationally. Most all coaches over the
years loved to collect his art -- they'd especially buy prints featuring
former athletes on their teams, sentimental value adding to the already
highly charged erotic content of the work. Each coach who owned one or
more of those amazing works felt the same way: seeing gorgeously lit and
posed photos of past young-buck fucks of theirs always got their dicks
tingling.
Sensorily, then, the whole day -- from the carwash itself, which meant all
that posing and flexing and cruising, watching cut, hard muscle pump and
writhe and ripple all day; then that very horned-up, bus-ride foreplay en
route to the country; and finally this non-stop orgy: all the hot boys and
men, naked or near-naked; the gorgeous, sexy DJ's (one in a leather harness
and jock, the other in just basketball shorts); and the hot male porn and
art all through the house -- was designed to fan boy-lust into a huge,
raging conflagration, which is exactly what happened. The long afternoon
of buff, near-naked muscle-jocks cruising each other had had its
unsurprising effect, producing a houseful of hot, horny boys, turned on by
every other dude in the place, who all wanted to dance with, watch porn
with, jack, swim, kiss, stroke, suck, and fuck every other sexy boy there.
Everyone in the place, athletes and coaches, were there to enjoy as much
jock dick as they could.
Some of the boys who'll be seniors in the fall, who've been to this
after-party once or twice before, knew from experience to have packed a
fresh jock or some sexy underwear, to wear seductively at the start of the
party. That was a tradition the coaches started: it was so hot seeing the
boys' young muscular beauty teasingly covered in just jocks or skimpy
briefs for a while; then the joy of unwrapping them. Not to mention
showing their own beautifully worked bodies off in a hot pair of
micro-trunks or a sexy pair of briefs showing off a thick length of
man-meat, driving the horned-up younger dudes wild. It was part of their
role as coach, as teacher of the body, schooling them in men's fetishes and
desires, eroticizing sexy underwear for them.
The younger boys had no idea something like this could ever happen at a
school-related activity Ð their fantasies taking such spectacular life
all around them. Suddenly, they were able to flirt and flaunt and touch
and fondle in ways they'd always desired but never dreamed possible. The
new boys were all sex-starved. Their experience with girls up to now had
always been nervous and unsatisfying. But here amid all these hot, horny
boys, anything sexual, flirtatious, seductive seemed so easy, so natural,
so basic, so thrilling. There had been those among the new boys Ð most,
in fact Ð who'd of course discovered gay porn, and had explored their
deepest sexual longings by dreamily stroking to fantasies like this. But
now they were living them. They were having the most exciting time of
their lives. It wasn't even about realizing they were gay; it was simply
about bodies, needs, desires, and the rich, satisfying possibilities that
lay open to them now.
The coaches also explained another feature before they turned their
horned-up young stallions loose -- the score cards. Each boy received a
kind of bingo card, with two boxes each under various headings: Jack, Get
Jacked, Suck, Get Sucked, Fuck, Get Fucked. You also got four sheets of
stickers, each sheet contained eight stickers of your own face. Then,
every time you had some sex that evening, you put your face-sticker on each
other's cards, in the appropriate box, whether you were sucked or the one
sucking, etc. You were encouraged to get a fresh card if your first one
got filled up. There was no limit on the number of new cards you could
take. At the end of the night, a tally was taken to see whose face
appeared the most on all the cards. That young cocksman earned the title
of 'Stud of St. Sebastian's,' which he held until next year's carwash.
The randiest among the jocks naturally started hitting on other boys
immediately, amped to start filling their card as quickly as possible, as
competitive in this sexual contest to score the most points as they were in
their athletic contests. So they began to prowl, to stalk, to leer, to
fondle, to grope. A favorite move was sidling up silently in back of an
unsuspecting hottie and hugging your hands over the boy's pecs, kneading
them sensuously, while your thick cock insistently nuzzled the boy's crack.
The keenest among them looked for situations where they could score more
than one sticker at a time -- jacking two boys while you sucked one off,
say. The sophomores and juniors new to the varsity squads that summer lay
back in dreamy delirium as some of the hottest jocks in the school worked
on their cocks. These young boys suddenly had the most exciting reason yet
to be glad they had made varsity that year.
All the virgins among any given year's invites followed the same pattern,
year in and year out: once another boy - or boys -- had broken them in
during the after-party orgy, they immediately sought out Coach, excited to
finally fulfill that most primal fantasy that had been simmering in them
for so long: worshipping Coach's awesome build, sucking his thick, luscious
man-cock, then being fucked by Coach. And that's the way the coaches liked
it; they wanted the boys to come to them, seek them out.
Every boy was hard and horny immediately, caught up in the immediate rush
of hard-core gay eroticism, but also just the sheer fun of being around a
bunch of hot other dudes; it was the dream-party vibe of all time for every
boy in the place: a hot naked boys-only muscle party, featuring their
awesomely sexy stud coaches. No boy in the place could have wished for a
better time, all were amped at the pure, deep body-pleasure that lay in
store: a mix of dancing, getting high, hot foreplay, even hotter sex,
swimming, and just general dude intimate camaraderie. Most of the coaches
sported cock rings. A few of the seniors did.
Matt Stand was one of those boys who went stalking his prey at once. The
minute the coaches had finished up their spiel about the night ahead, Matt
put his moves on his basketball hottie crush, boldly sauntering right up to
him, making sure his thick jock cock waggled back and forth invitingly. He
knew other dudes were probably fiending for this smoking hot new boy, but
Matt claimed his droit du seigneur as star player on the school's most
important team.
"Hey, man, that dope in the kitchen sounds kinda tight. You wanna do a
bowl or two, grab a beer, then come back here and dance? This music is way
chill, and, I gotta say, I love dancing with another hot dude even more
than I like dancin' with a hot chick. And you, dude, are WAY hot!"
Blake smiled and looked down bashfully. The he raised his head and looked
at Matt with an evident hunger gleaming warmly in his fiery green eyes.
"Sounds tight as hell, dude! You're Matt Stand, right? That was funny as
hell all afternoon, checking each other out!"
They both laughed shyly but hungrily. Matt was further inflamed by Blake's
frank lust.
"You're an awesome QB, by the way, dude. You'll be like the Heisman Trophy
winner in college, no doubt!"
"Yeah, right! As if!"
Now it was Matt's turn to look down shyly. Quickly, though, he resumed his
cruising.
"So you know me. But now who are you, besides the hottest boy at this
party?"
"Fuck, dawg! I ain't hot. But you're fucking smoking, dude!"
And here, Blake, almost instinctually, reached out and stroked Matt's
beautifully carved musculature with a combination of reverence and desire.
Both boys' cocks began to stiffen appreciably. They were so turned on by
each other.
It was unreal for Blake, being naked, getting hard with another hot dude
like this, knowing sex was throbbing imminently between them.
"I'm Blake Berringer, by the way. On the basketball team."
"NO SHIT YOU ARE!" Matt yelled appreciatively, now connecting the name of
the kid who had become such a star during the basketball team's run-up to
state to this gorgeous dude standing naked and sexy before him.
"Now I recognize you! You're Mr. Triple-Double State Champeen! I remember
the first game I saw you play in this year, dude! As I started watching, I
got so damn turned on by this hot, hot body and this beautiful face you
got."
Matt traced his hand over the boy's jock good looks, letting his finger
sexily trail over the stubble on that firm jaw, then over those full, moist
lips.
He winked, smiled at Blake, and continued his story.
"But then, dawg, just when I start thinking how fine you look."
He let his hands glide over the boy's smooth, firm ass.
"And how very much I'd like to tap this shit, I realize you're showing off
these mad skills! You're a fucking AWESOME player, dude! Talk about
winning a college trophy! You are the fucking real deal, dawg! Naismith,
no doubt!"
The two of them were lost in their own world, giddy over how attracted to
each other they were. Both their cocks throbbed hard and excited.
They sauntered to the kitchen, hands stroking each other's asses while they
walked through a tableaux vivant of young male lust, and did a few bowls
amid the crush of the naked jock muscle clustered around the table, boys
bubbling with lust and testosterone, anxious to float a pot buzz over their
dick buzz, to heighten the pleasure of what was to come.
After a few puffs each, Matt and Blake grabbed a couple beers from a
cooler, then left the kitchen, heading back to the family room, to groove
to that sexy club-trance music while they flirted with each other some
more.
Almost as soon as the boys began swaying to the beat, they instinctively
began grinding against each other's naked, hard-carved bodies in every
combination possible -- cock against cock, cock against hip, or one boy's
cock grinding hard and sexy up and down against the other's ass, all the
while hungry hands stroking hard jock muscle or ass, lips and tongues more
often than not pressed equally hard against each other.
Their dance was luscious, bass-heavy foreplay: stiff, leaky cocks; firm,
cut muscle; and diamond-hard nipples -- all rubbed hard, slow and sensuous
against each other, to that hypnotic, body-deep beat.
Blake was in heaven. He had never felt more himself. This was one of the
things he savored about being a student athlete, the heady atmosphere of
nude intimacy with other fit males. Only this wasn't just a lush
locker-room scene, this was his late-night j/o orgy-dream come true -- a
room full of hot, buff, naked teen-studs, all consumed with boy-fever. At
last he could worship another dude's muscle the way he'd always fantasized.
A dude's dick, too -- finally. And Matt had such a huge, sleek,
powerful-looking cock, absolutely gorgeous. Blake couldn't believe the
first dick he was going to suck was as mouth-wateringly perfect as this
young football god's.
Blake loved gazing on gorgeous, built boys. But he'd always had to do it
with such sly, shameful secrecy. But here, boys could exult in each
other's beauty -- handsome faces and well-worked muscle and naked cock --
with the full force of their longing. This was a wonderful new world for
Blake, an apotheosis of his most primal desires.
At his other school there'd been a tiresome culture of homophobia and
gay-bashing. Blake, although he'd never yet been with another boy, had
assumed for years he was gay, given how strong and persistent his desire
was, but at that other school, he'd never even dared make a move on another
dude. And that queer-unfriendly jock culture at his former school
continued echoing in his mind long after he transferred to St. Sebastian's,
making him still too nervous to confess desire in the hopes of intimacy,
fearing this group of boys might be equally homophobic. So he'd just
knuckled down and concentrated on basketball (between that and classes way
harder than he was used to, he had little time for anything else). Then
came the state finals and even more basketball.
But gradually he began to see the guys at St. Sebastian's were cool, fun,
normal. Not to mention those jockstrap-only weight sessions! But now to
see this! To know his own deepest desires concerning boys were equally
relished by so many of the other boys -- not to mention the hot young
coaches. And just why the fuck ARE all the coaches here such young
hotties, he wondered delightedly? A dude couldn't ask for better eye candy
than these twenty-something studs in charge of the various teams here.
Now, dirty dancing with the hottest stud in the school, a boy he'd
worshiped from afar every since he'd arrived.
After about three songs, Matt pulled Blake close to him and kissed him
passionately. Then his lips started kissing Blake's inner ear sexily,
breathing hot and whispery. Then he softly voiced his immediate desire.
"You wanna go be by ourselves now, dude?"
Blake thrilled to the question, because he knew it meant the real sex would
start now, and he was achingly ready, about five years ready.
He kissed Matt's ear in answer, licking and purring and breathing hot and
low.
"Fuck yeah!"
Then Blake looked down a little shyly.
"But I gotta tell you, dawg. Ain't never been with a dude before."
Matt lifted Blake's chin up and just gazed at the boy's masculine beauty.
"I been with lots of boys. But I've never been with one as hot as you.
Fuck, dude, you should be like a model or something. You are so damn
gorgeous! You get me hard as fuck. Couldn't take my fucking eyes off you
earlier. Can't now."
Matt kissed Blake again, rubbing his ass, then he nodded with his head in a
signal they were leaving and started walking off down one of the halls
leading out of the living room.
He seemed to know exactly where he was going, so Blake just followed in a
lust-haze, mesmerized by the QBs firm, marble-chiseled ass.
As they worked their way through the almost maze-like rooms of this huge
luxury house, Blake felt like he was drifting on a strong, rushing current
of jock-muscle lust. Beautifully fit dudes were either sucking or fucking
or jacking or kissing or just stroking each other's hard-cut torsos all
around them, or there were muscular boys standing off alone, here and
there, shamelessly, seductively, stroking hard, jutting cocks, hungrily,
staring intently across the room at the evening's next possible hook-up,
the way they'd size up their opponent on the mat or the playing field.
Sprinkled throughout the mix, like ruggedly handsome satyrs frolicking
through the forest, having their randy sport with the gorgeous young fauns.
They got to some stairs, hurried up, then walked down an upstairs hall and
into a beautifully furnished bedroom (one Matt has used before with boys on
previous trips out here to Coach Rayburn's).
Once alone, Matt pushed Blake back on the bed, letting him know who'd be in
charge tonight (at least from the start). He was on the boy's long, thick,
hard-jutting cock in a minute, driving Blake into instant paroxysms of
ecstasy.
Matt was an amazingly skilled cocksucker. He lavished every luscious
technique he knew on the beautiful cock in front of him, wanting to make
Blake's first time magical.
Blake, indeed, was overwhelmed. His football stud crush went from
deep-throating his cock to gently teasing his shaft and cock-head and
piss-slit with his tongue, working it inside his foreskin, driving Blake
nuts, causing the precum to flow steadily. Then back to full-bore sucking,
then tongue-worshipping his ballsac, then his taint, then -- aw fuck yes!
-- his hungry virgin pucker. He thrashed his head from side to side,
moaning and grunting in ecstasy.
A few more minutes of this exquisite dick-pleasuring and Blake came harder
than he'd ever cum before. Matt smiled at him, melting Blake into deeper
lust. He closed his eyes in almost stupefied pleasure, feeling Matt's
tongue lick up every drop of spent boy-cream. Matt kissed his way up
Blake's beautifully cut body, and they kissed with an electric passion.
As their lips and tongues attacked each other with a savage, youthful
hunger, their hands worshipped their sleek, hard-carved bodies. Pressed up
close to each other, chest to chest, hard nipples brushing hard nipples,
they reveled in the feeling of each other's hard cocks pressed tight
together in hard, throbbing pleasure.
Blake finally pulled out of their fevered kissing to catch his breath.
"Fuck! This is unreal! So fucking hot! Dude, you are fucking amazing!
Fucking sexiest dude I've ever seen!"
Another kiss, then Blake worked his way down Matt's beautifully pumped
chest, kissing and licking everywhere, sucking Matt's nipples, biting them,
loving to hear Matt's low moans of pleasure. He worked his tongue into the
deep cuts of the jock god's hard-carved eight-pack.
Then he reached his prize -- his first boy-cock.
At first he felt a kind of shy, awed reverence for this hard, gorgeous
lust-object, so he lightly licked and kissed and gently worshipped the
fierce power that seemed to emanate from Matt's thick, straining hardness.
But after the first few luscious licks, he grew bolder, hungrier, and soon
was taking more and more of that firm, delicious length of boy-meat into
his suddenly ravenous mouth. Soon he was devouring Matt's cock with
sloppy, grunting abandon, taking to cocksucking like a natural.
Matt pressed against the back of the boy's head and gently broke him into
the kind of hard face-fucking rhythm he liked. After a while, to let Blake
rest a bit, he pulled out and let his long, thick cock play back and forth
over Blake's sensuous, passionate lips, alternating his stroking with
teasing little lust-taps on Blake's precum-glazed lips, telegraphing a
barely-coded message of desire to this beautiful, bewitching boy.
More sucking, with Matt shifting so they could 69, bringing a deep moan of
ecstasy from Blake's cock-stuffed mouth. They sucked each other's
throbbing cocks for a while, then Matt began to work first one finger, then
another, into Blake's excited hole.
Blake continued to relish his first taste of cock, made than much more
exciting by Matt's ass-play. He thought his pleasure couldn't be greater
until he felt Matt's tongue begin to rim him.
"FUCK YES! Tongue my fucking hole! Get me ready to take this hot jock
cock up my tight, virgin ass! Aw fuck, this is SOOOO fuckin' fine, dude!"
He went back to worshipping the football stud's cock, the gorgeous length
of boy-meat that soon would be taking his cherry, giving him the
ass-fucking he'd fantasized for forever.
Between sensuous tonguing and teasing fingering, Matt finally had Blake's
hole open enough to take dick.
"Gonna fuck ya now, dawg.! Gonna fuck this tight, sweet hole. God, your
ass is so fucking gorgeous, dude."
"Fuck yeah! Gimme every fucking inch of this hot jock dick! Fuck, you are
so fucking beautiful, dude! So damn sexy!"
Matt flipped the gorgeous blonde stud over, so they could drink in each
other's muscular beauty while they fucked. Then, kissing Blake with
tender, smoldering passion, he raised his cut torso up and began to work
his hard, throbbing dick slowly into Blake's hungry hole.
Blake fell into a deep, moaning sea of erotic sensation in his first fuck.
First there was the luscious sensation of boy-cock busting his cherry and
flooding into his warm, eager hole. Then, once the football god bottomed
out, and Blake savored the thrill of hard, throbbing cock in his hungry ass
for the first time, Matt got to work, finally claiming the prize he'd
longed for all day.
Matt's huge, hard ramhorn began bucking, pistoning into Blake with youthful
abandon, forcing from Blake a series of strained, high-pitched cries of
unbelieving ecstasy. And the feeling of Matt's full, jostling ballsac,
filled with those big, egg-sized balls, as it kept slapping against his
cheeks with each thrust, was absolutely amazing.
This first time was amazing, storybook, so much more awesome than he'd
dreamed. And he'd longed for it often, fingering his ass almost always
when he jacked, fantasizing about a hard dick up there, pumping and
stroking and pounding, but the actual reality was so much more fantastic.
Matt would pull out every now and then for about a minute, to work his huge
head and shaft sexily over Blake's big, floppy sac, helping to stoke up
Blake's cum, fan the fuck flames. It worked; each cock-massage of his
balls sent an electric current to Blake's brain, driving him wilder with
desire.
Matt's own boy-lust for the hottest boy he'd ever been with had him hard
and throbbing enough to keep up a steady stream of hard-ass fucking for
over thirty minutes. Blake shot his first load after about fifteen minutes
of mind-blown thrill, then another after ten more minutes. His ass became
almost instantly addicted to Matt's cock.
Blake was inexperienced, so this first-time encounter was all
Cinderella-like mind-blowing to him. Matt was quite experienced, but it
was easily the best sex he'd ever had; indeed, best he could ever imagine.
He felt like some young wunderkind dancer, who'd at last found the right
partner, his passionate equal, one who finally let him do all his most
daring, athletic moves. The two of them were perfectly, radiantly, in
synch.
When Matt finally came, it only took a minute or so, collapsed on his new
lover, until they both began kissing, stroking, getting hard. Then more
sucking, Blake's first time fucking a boy, more jacking, sucking, and
muscle-worship to get them hard yet again.
At one point during their hours of love-making alone together in that
bedroom, giddily filling each other's cards with each other's
sticker-photos, Matt realized he'd totally fallen for the boy.
But that was stupid, he kept telling himself, through all the dazzling,
still-stoked kissing and sucking and fucking and stroking. I mean, he
wasn't even gay, not really. Maybe Blake was, but he wasn't.
Matt had a girlfriend, after all, a total hottie. They'd been together
since summer after sophomore year. So Matt considered himself straight, of
course.
It's just that, over the last couple years, Matt has become totally into
the amazing boy-sex his sport and intimacy with other hot-looking high
school jocks allows, the sex so many of his jock-buds were equally addicted
to. But that didn't mean anything. It was nothing more than guys together
nutting, just taking care of what were ordinary young male drives, made
even stronger by their highly-pumped testosterone levels. But fuck, was
that sex ever hot! He and the dudes he hung with were ALWAYS up for some
hard-core boy-fun.
He and Tea, his girlfriend, were great together, they had fun together, but
as for actual sex, well, right now, he'd take hot times with his bro's any
day. No comparison which kind of sex got him harder -- way harder!
What was especially chill about Tea was how she loved seeing Matt get it on
with other dudes! It was awesome! Sometimes they'd double date with
another hot jock stud and his girlfriend, and it always ended up in one of
their houses, whoever's parents weren't home that night, in one of their
bedrooms, the girls fingering themselves while they watched the hot
muscle-boys boys suck and fuck and cream all night. Those nights were
amazing!
Lots of times (actually, really ALL the time lately), he'd drop by her
place with one or two of his hot-looking buds, or he'd arrange for a couple
of dudes to drop by when Tea was at his house, and it was so damn cool! He
didn't even have to ask! She knew exactly what these hot jocks wanted! So
she'd lay back and watch them, fingering herself and moaning, and sometimes
fingering one guy's pucker or stroking or sucking one of their cocks. The
dudes were always way too into it with each other, of course, to eat her
pussy or even fuck her. But that was OK with her -- it was so hot watching
them!
But this basketball stud was too fucking much for Matt. Hottest dude he'd
ever seen, period. And Matt had to admit, when you got down to it, a hot
dude, with all those fucking muscles and a firm ass and a long, thick cock,
was waaaayyyyy hotter than a hot girl. Titties were cool, IF they were
just the right size; otherwise, they could be kinda gross. And pussies?
Well, he's fucked a lot of girls, but he'd never fucked a pussy hotter,
tighter, warmer, more freaking awesome, than fucking some ripped jock's
tight little hole. And he's never seen a pussy yet, even that cute little
waxed slit of Tea's, that got him as hard as seeing a hot, thick length of
succulent boy-meat. Jock cock was fucking gorgeous!
But no dude had ever affected Matt on this level before. This guy was in
his head. Had been, right from the start, when the carwash started and
this hottie had totally caught his eye. So freaking built and so fucking
beautiful. The kind of face you just want to stroke and kiss and lick and
gaze at -- unreal beauty. And the kind of perfect body you could worship
all night -- that lean, lithe, hard-carved muscle that always got Matt so
damn hard.
Matt could seriously see being with this dude together for a while. A hot,
heavy relationship. Something he'd have no problem breaking up with Tea
over. Cause he could just feel what he and Blake could have together would
be way better than what he and Tea had -- not just sexually, which it
already was about a thousand times better than, but more emotionally
satisfying, he'd have to say, than what it was like with Tea. Which was
pretty fucking thin.
He could easily imagine Blake and he as a couple. They'd do homework over
each other's houses most nights, immediately stripping to their sexy
underwear, and sitting close as they completed their assignments, kissing
and fondling while they worked. Then, homework done, they'd strip off
their briefs or jocks and jack to some hot gay porn on Matt's laptop,
getting ideas for sexy shit they could try together.
Then a shower together, to clean off the sweat and cum from jacking. Matt
loved showering with another dude -- soapy hands playing over hard muscle,
smooth ass, and thick cock. Maybe they could shave each other in the
shower, then lick smooth balls and slick cracks. Then one would fuck the
other, of course. They could dry each other off, stay nude, and have more
boy-play in bed.
Sleepovers on weekends, alone together or maybe with a few other hot dudes.
Beers and pot and sucking and fucking all night.
And, shit, Matt thought! There was at least a good month and a half of
summer weather left! He could take Blake up to his family's lake cabin.
They could drive up Friday, spend the night alone, then have some buds join
them, maybe, Saturday and Sunday. Blake would love it up there! He could
just see them tanning nude together, on the dock or that nice secluded
stretch of sandy beach they had, then jacking together, then sucking and
fucking. Skinny-dipping, then more fucking. Curling up later together, a
hot 69 in front of the big stone fireplace. Fuck, he loved this dude!
Suddenly the truth washed over him in a huge wave. He'd always wanted, he
saw it so clearly now, a boy for his lover, his partner; he'd just never
found the one that made that truth apparent. And here he was. The truth
of the realization filled Matt with an electric excitement.
He couldn't imagine staying with Tea now, even if he could also be together
with Blake. And for sure, he couldn't imagine sex with Blake and him and
Tea -- or any girl, for that matter. He wanted Blake to himself alone --
and whatever other hot boys they'd share together, of course.
At one point, Matt kissed Blake tenderly. Then he pulled up off of him and
got to the floor. He was totally amped at the thought of a relationship
with Blake, but too nervous to broach the topic.
"So fucking hot with you, dude! Hey, what say I run down, get us a couple
more beers, and we get ready for Round 7 or whatever the fuck number we're
up to?"
Matt came back with the beers and a gorgeous, lean-muscled Asian junior
from the soccer team, for he and Blake to spit-roast. The Asian boy was so
hot-looking: smooth, beautifully built, with gorgeous androgynous looks.
After they each finished about half their beers, Matt turned to the lithe
soccer stud and offered him his semi-hard cock.
"Dude, you wanna suck this stud cock while my boyfriend fucks your hot
ass?"
"Hell yeah! Two hot studs like you? That'd be awesome, dudes!"
As Matt felt the junior's hot lips on his cock, all he could think of was,
" I said 'boyfriend'! It slipped out so naturally! As he relished a very
good blow job, made hotter by watching his gorgeous lover delight in
fucking hot soccer ass, his thoughts again turned to a future with Blake.
The athletes at St. Sebastian's traveled around in packs, based either on
individual stars or teams. So there were the football boys, the wrestling
clique, etc. But there was also, say, Matt Stand's posse. Partly, then,
what this beginning of the year party was about was the realization that
this was the perfect time, if you were unaffiliated yet with a pack (or if
you were thinking of upgrading), to audition, to prove yourself worthy. In
a sort of X-rated all-male mixer like this, there were two ways you
auditioned -- in terms of your charm, your bonhommie, your homieness; as
well as your sexual skills, your ability to suck cock, to have a cock boys
loved sucking, to throw a mean fuck, to be a hot bottom, to be able to rock
boys' worlds in bed.
Matt knew Blake would have easily had a pack by now, had he started at
St. Sebastian's earlier. This year, though, definitely, he'll have a pack.
Starting in fall, most likely, as soon as they get back. Damn, Matt
thought to himself, and the thought made his dick stiffen excitedly, what
if Blake and I are a couple this year? Of course, there were no out
couples at school, but Matt knew there were a few boys who were pretty
fucking tight, even if not many others knew it. But even if we kept our
relationship on the down-low, Matt wondered, could we have our own pack?
Has there ever in school history, he suddenly wondered, been two boys, a
semi-secret couple, with a pack? He'd have to ask Coach.
Fuck! Matt could just instantly fantasize what a pack like that would be
like: half of the dudes in their pack just hot, sexy muscle jocks and half
the real bad-boys. Fuck, the sex when such a pack got together would be
awesome -- like what was happening around them now, the 150-proof version,
the extra-gold, the extra-creamy.
After their hot time with the Asian hottie, Blake told Matt he wanted to
find his coach. Matt smiled to himself, knowing exactly what Blake had in
mind. So they headed back downstairs.
All around them, the scene throughout the house was an ebullient orgy --
raw, lusty, but teeming, too, with an athletic boy's wholesome enthusiasm.
So, it was like hard-core gay porn crossed with a high school team's
victory party; half giddy jock whooping and horseplay and half Sean Cody
shoot. Fucking and sucking and jacking and kissing, plus all the flexing
and posing by beautiful young men, each of whom easily held their own
amidst a bevy of cut young muscle, and each of whom got off on watching
lean muscle pump and big dicks swing. Matt knew the heady, creamy taste of
boy-cum was on every dude's lips.
Matt glanced at dude's dicks (his favorite sight) at they strode through
the mansion. He felt a throb through his own semi-hard cock as he noticed
how many boys sported hard, jutting, delicious-looking wood. There were
some boys, Matt knew from experience -- the true studs on each of the teams
-- who never went really soft the entire evening: their raging testosterone
let them vacillate between rock-hard and semi-hard.
After asking a few dudes, they finally found Coach Daniels. he was
secluded in a quiet den, on a big, leather, overstuffed couch, having his
huge, hard man-cock sucked by a gorgeous black stud. Blake immediately
thrilled to see his Coach hard and in the throes of boy-sex, and the boy
having sex with him was Harmon Paris, a freaking gorgeous point guard, one
of the sexiest, most built dudes on his team. Blake paused for a minute
and just relished the sight of Harmon's full, luscious lips going up and
down on Coach's sexy shaft.
Finally Coach noticed him.
"Blake! Hot to see you! And Matt! How about you boys joining us?"
Blake immediately knelt next to Harmon and helped worship his coach's cock
with his tongue. His deepest lust-fantasy was suddenly coming true, even
better than he'd ever fantasized.
Matt bent next to Harmon and whispered low and hoarse.
"Fuck, dawg, I would love to tap that smoking hot black ass! You feel like
some hard, hot, football cock up that tight hole o' yours?"
"Hell yeah I wanna be fucked by the hottest stud in school! Tongue my ass
while Blake and I suck Coach!"
Soon, the room was filled with the loud lusty lapping and sucking and
moaning of jock-studs and their coach in the throes of male passion. Blake
and Harmon were half licking and lapping at their coach's cock, half
kissing and tongue-dancing with each other. Harmon, especially, was in
heaven, sucking off coach, making out with his team's hot superstar, and
having his ass rimmed by the quarterback stud. Every cock in the room was
hard and straining.
Soon, Matt was randy and anxious to fuck. He lifted the lean, muscular
hottie to his feet and slipped into him from behind.
As he began sliding into the gorgeous stud's tight, warm hole, eliciting a
long low moan of delight, he heard Coach Daniels.
"So hot! Blake, come sit on my cock and let's watch those two studs go at
it!"
Exactly the words Blake wanted to hear.
Matt grew even harder watching his hot lover work his beautifully muscled
body onto his coach's huge hardness, knowing what an exciting rite of
passage this was for a young jock stud.
As he pistoned his hips against the beautiful black point guard, he began
jacking the dude's long, luscious cock. He leaned close and began kissing
the boy's neck. Then he whispered sexily in his ear.
"You know when I'm done fucking I'm gonna want this sweet dark meat up my
hot white ass!"
"Oh fuck yes, Matt! My fucking pleasure!"
A half-hour or so later, Matt and Blake were having a beer by the pool,
chilling to some soft droning music and watching dudes frolic in the water.
Blake turned to his first-time lover.
"Dude, I gotta ask you something. Did I hear you earlier calling me
'boyfriend'?"
Matt was embarrassed.
"Yeah, well you see it was -- ."
He was tongue-tied. But Blake wasn't.
"Cause that sure as fuck sounded fine to me."
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